24

Mephisto Manor was exceptionally lively tonight.

A grand banquet was being held within the manor.

Long tables had been set out across the manor's lawn, covered with immaculate white tablecloths and laden with exquisitely arranged food and pastries. House-elves used magic to float trays of wine, upon which goblets were stacked like towers.

Whenever a wizard asked them for a drink, a goblet filled with champagne or red wine would automatically float down into the guest's hand.

A vast canopy of purple fabric enveloped Mephisto Manor, as though an enormous umbrella had appeared over the garden. Everyone sang, danced, and played merrily beneath it, joining in the lively gathering.

Whenever guests looked up, they would find that the canopy had transformed into the sky itself—a magical effect.

Occasionally, a female guest would let out a shriek. When they had gone to ladle themselves some soup, they discovered a little golden snake swimming through the broth, giving them quite a fright.

That was Camilla. From the moment the banquet began, she had slipped into that pot of broth, eating and drinking to her heart's content.

Suddenly, a pale little hand scooped her out. Holding the finger-thick Camilla up, Axinsha said to a group of children her own age behind her, "This is Camilla, my brother's favorite pet. You've read about Camilla's adventures in the Daily Prophet before, right?"

Seeing the astonished cries from the children, Axinsha was delighted. She set Camilla on the ground and said, "Get bigger! Let's play together!"

Throughout the entire manor, Camilla obeyed only her master's orders, but there were exceptions, such as Axinsha and her mother, Aili. As for Fumengde... Camilla had always been indifferent toward him.

A suddenly enlarged golden giant python appeared, allowing all the children to climb onto its body. Camilla slithered about cheerfully, and everyone felt as though they were riding atop a golden train.

"That's it! The gift I gave him! Hahaha!"

Lucius burst into laughter when he saw Camilla grow larger. He had an arm slung around Fumengde's shoulders, jumping and shouting alongside a crowd of pure-blood family cronies. But when Lucius spotted Draco—his own son—cowering fearfully atop Camilla, his expression darkened again. A descendant of a pure-blood family was actually afraid of a snake. What a disgrace!

Moreover, at least twenty-three of the twenty-eight pure-blood families had attended this banquet. Even the Weasley family had come. Only families such as the Blacks were all locked up in Azkaban now, while of the Potter Family, only the youngest, Harry, remained—probably still sleeping in a cupboard somewhere.

The Weasleys and that old lady from the Longbottom family had remained beside an elderly wizard dressed in purple robes, wearing spectacles, with a head full of white hair.

When Camilla suddenly grew larger, he could not help glancing at the magical Camilla and muttering, "What a monstrous genius. Someone who can turn an ordinary animal into a magical creature should only exist in..."

He wanted to eat some Every Flavour Beans from the table, but hesitated, seemingly worried about getting an unpleasant flavor. He looked just like an old child.

"Don't be like that, Dumbledore. You should try talking to him. Don't you write to each other often?"

The old lady from the Longbottom family could not help saying.

"That is true, but look at Karkaroff. He's been hovering around Sherlock the entire time. With three magic schools standing before one child, it wouldn't be appropriate for two or three of them to gather around him at once."

Dumbledore looked somewhat annoyed. Ever since the banquet began, Durmstrang's vice-headmaster had refused to leave Sherlock alone. First, he had invited Sherlock to join the International Dark Magic Association, which Sherlock had accepted, much to Karkaroff's excitement. Then he had invited him to study at Durmstrang School of Magic.

But Sherlock had refused, on the grounds that Germany was too far away. Karkaroff, however, refused to give up and kept singing its praises. He was competing for the position of headmaster, and seemed convinced that as long as Sherlock agreed to study at Durmstrang in the future, he would definitely become headmaster.

Seeing this, Arthur Weasley volunteered himself. Pretending to be drunk, he staggered about with a glass of red wine in hand and deliberately spilled it over Karkaroff as he passed by.

He then claimed that Karkaroff had provoked him, and the two began arguing. Lucius and Fumengde came over to break it up. Naturally, Lucius took the chance to sneer sarcastically, while Fumengde smoothed things over. The Weasley Family was actually quite renowned in the wizarding world, but unfortunately, it was only renowned.

Standing beside Dumbledore with a dark expression, Molly watched her husband's self-proclaimed brilliant plan unfold. Still, it worked well enough. At the very least, Sherlock had escaped Karkaroff's pestering.

Dumbledore popped an Every Flavour Bean into his mouth.

Annoyed, he said, "Damn it, dog droppings flavor."

Yet he did not look angry at all, because before leaving the school, he had asked Trelawney, the Divination professor, to make a prediction. She had said that as long as he ate something he did not wish to eat at the dining table, he would certainly accomplish what he wanted to do.

Dumbledore disliked Every Flavour Beans, and he had even gotten the worst possible flavor.

That gave him confidence. Honestly, a genius from an ancient family that revered the Dark Arts—almost any wizard would assume he would attend Durmstrang School of Magic.

Dumbledore began approaching Sherlock. When he reached a holly tree, he heard Sherlock speaking with his mother, Aili.

"Karkaroff is truly annoying. Still, I have to admit that he'll become Durmstrang's headmaster sooner or later. But I don't want to study at a school led by someone like him. If possible, I'd still prefer Hogwarts. After all, both you and Father graduated from there!"

Dumbledore did not stop walking. He merely turned a corner and walked back.

"You didn't go talk to him? Why are you back?"

Mrs. Longbottom asked.

"Because Trelawney's prediction was very accurate, and I like Every Flavour Beans too." Dumbledore ate another one, having casually popped it into his mouth out of happiness.

"Damn it, horse manure flavor!"

Dumbledore went to greet Fudge and mingle with him, because he saw Newt and Oster pulling Fudge aside to enthusiastically recount Sherlock's success. They were witnesses as well!

Only Mrs. Longbottom watched Dumbledore's retreating back with an odd expression. She greatly admired Dumbledore. Whenever she ate Every Flavour Beans, she only knew they tasted awful, but could never remember exactly what flavor they were.

Yet Dumbledore could basically name the flavor at once. Was it because he read more books?

This banquet had been held specifically to celebrate Sherlock's successful control over his Obscurus. It was also the first large-scale banquet the Mephisto Family had hosted since closing itself off, and many prominent figures from the wizarding world had been invited.

Even the Mephisto Family's house-elves had been worked to exhaustion, forcing them to borrow some from the Malfoy Family.

Whenever Sherlock came near, Aili kept pulling him over to chat enthusiastically with a group of sisters from her Ravenclaw days. When they asked Sherlock to transform into his Obscurus—

Sherlock rolled his eyes, but still transformed into a mass of black mist formed from dark magical power. It spun around once before changing back.

This power was not to be underestimated. If used on a battlefield, it would be immensely destructive.

Back in New York, an Obscurus of the same scale could crush the Aurors of the Magical Congress of the United States. Even Grindelwald had been at a disadvantage when fighting one.

The banquet was lively, but all gatherings eventually came to an end...

Three years later, Sherlock's reputation had grown ever louder, even though he was still only eleven years old.

Sherlock had also made the title of Prince of Spells ring out even more resoundingly.

He was also known as the only controllable Obscurial.

But on his eleventh birthday, a gray owl delivered a special letter.

It was an admission notice from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It was said that both Durmstrang School of Magic and Beauxbatons School of Magic had intended to send him admission notices, but Dumbledore had gone to their doors and torn into them. He had even dragged Fudge along to wield the political influence of the British Ministry of Magic.

His reasoning was that British wizards had no business going to Germany or France for school. For this, Dumbledore offended a great many British wizards who had graduated from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons.